Dominion A Swoop For A Kingdom | Grayson Imperium Dominion of Vulpter |

[Loske Treicolt]

Working with: Jegy Sesara
Others: P Placeholder 0128 / Cataline Holt / Alyson Halle
Programmed to negotiate: Dak
Tea party: Collector / Atlas Kane
Music ​

"Anytime, doctor."

While Jegy Sesara still had some of his apparatus adorning himself, Loske also still had her helmet on. Which was a relief, given the usefulness of the filtration system. She'd probably be coughing up a lung with her easily influenced constitution. She floundered a bit while they each re-centered themselves atop the Whirlie. She mostly found herself clutching to one of the random extensions atop the ship while the Sullustan worked his magic intruding on the operations of the vehicle, deconstructing it from the inside out.

The landing wouldn't cue any 10-cards from the judges but the pair were in tact. She cast a rather forlorn glance toward the one Whirlie that was still airborne. It was impaired, but unable to render any further damage of a kamikaze approach.

A definitive nod evidenced, and she gave a thumbs up to the Sullustan who couldn't see a smile behind the concealment of her helm. "Nice party trick."

There was a swell of anxiety from beneath their feet. She looked down purposefully, as if expecting to see what it was. Obviously, the Whirlie was not transparent so she opted to navigate to slide down the side and scuttle down the debris to where she could stand and affix her view on one of the exit hatches.

"Are you a good cop, or a bad cop?" She asked, while taking her turn to extend her hand. Some of the obstructive debris over the designated doorway began to quiver. "Let's try and get a motive and employer, hm?" Eventually, one of the largest pieces of debris began to lift to be discarded so Jegy could enter into the cabin and get some answers.

 

[Cataline Holt]

Hopefully the next planet she went to wouldn't be like this. Although, on the positive, she had learned a bunch - how to not screw up a President's name, what a whirlie was, and what probably 10 different cancers were. All things she would have never known about without visiting Vulpter. Would she come back?

Only if the Lord-Imperator requested her too.

Nonetheless, she listened carefully as P Placeholder 0128 and Grumbs spoke. The Ofradeen were apparently Vulpter nationalists? Cataline's face squinted a little as she thought about what it meant - for the people and for the Imperium as the planet became theirs. And the irony of a 'pure' Vulpter was not lost on her.

Either way, she gave a nod to Cedric. "Will do," she replied. Hopefully they'd have that moment sooner than later... Naturally, rifles fired. It caused Cataline to first jump, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. She immediately moved herself in front of the President, just in case something unexpected happened. But, it seemed that the Imperator dealt with it fairly quickly.

Cataline smiled,"It is impressive, isn't it, President Grumb?" Her smile became more of a smirk at his question. "No, I can't. But I'm sure glad the Imperator can." Especially mere seconds prior, otherwise they would have been in a very bad situation.

 

[Leon Gallo]

Eleven racers sped through the canyon, nearing it's end. Another sharp turn lay ahead, and the rapid fire cannons of the whirlies were behind them. In less than a single lap, more than half the racers had crashed, and many of those were dead.


Leon breathed heavily, barely hearing the crashing ships behind him. One's dying burst of fire had made a lucky hit, bringing down the racer next to him. The thinned competition was a boon to him, but the savagery of the race still disgusted him. Of the ten remaining, Leon was in about 5th.



The two massive-engined pods in front made it difficult to see what was ahead, especially since they seemed to be blocking their opponents from even seeing. When the turn hit, Leon was taken with suprise, but was far enough back to hear and see the third-placer crash. The turn was harsh, but he managed to pull his pod through it. Outside the curve, the canyon's walls slipped away, leaving the starting field ahead. The racers sped through, making their first lap. One more was ahead of them.



In a single lap, the race went from twemty four, to nine. Leon was almsot scared to see how many would make it out of the second.

 

[Dak]

Tags: P Placeholder 0128
Others: Cataline Holt Alyson Halle
Racing/Traumatized: Leon Gallo
Good Cop, Bad Cop: Loske Treicolt Jegy Sesara
​

Although he considers switching it for a moment, Dak opts to leave his rifle set to stun as the situation escalates. From their frantic reactions, he considered it unlikely they'd have firepower heavy enough to pose a significant threat to the droid. Perhaps another few grenades, but unless the group was far more fanatical than anticipated, Dak hoped the odds of them activating one once they're all in the same room were low.

"I will consider this your final warning," he speaks out again, maintaining a monotonous tone "toss your weapons through the doorway and exit the room with your arms raised." While he aims at the doorway from the corner he attempts to remain vigilant of his surrounds, anticipating new arrivals at any moment. There was no time for banter or games; they'd agree or not.

A scoff and spit come as a response, followed by thinly masked nervous laughter from another.

"Ain't no tin-man takin' me in," a voice calls back.

One of his companions lets out a humoured snort at the comment, "'nuff wit' da talkin'! If yer gonna do sum'in, do it. But best make it quick, yer Empra's probly got compney by now!" At that, the lot of them begin to hoot and holler, seemingly beginning to build their confidence.

It could be a bluff, Dak considers, but he was also aware that things had already begun to degrade with the rest of their team. It was entirely possible, likely even, that this terror cell had orchestrated several simultaneous attacks. Regardless, Dak had faith that Cedric could fend for himself against something like this. Were something to happen to the local President, the capture of one of these goons would be crucial in clearing the Imperium's name.

This would be a necessary risk.

"Very well," Dak concedes, raising to his feet and taking quick steps toward the doorway.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

So far as Cedric could tell, the race was drawing to a close. He had little effect on it from here, entombed in the lower levels of the viewing station as he was.

He took point, marching ahead of Grumb and Cataline to make sure nothing more happened. "Call it a talent of birth," Cedric quipped as the door to the stairwell opened, leading to an empty gutter hall that spanned the entire length of the colliseum. Grumb waved for them to follow him, his fingers tapping along a terminal that had been hidden in one of the walls.

Part of the wall hissed open.

"I think it's uh, safe ta' say we're going to be allies from hereon, Miss Holt, Mister Imperator," Grumb said as he led them inside. It was a well furnished little den, though quite small. Cedric had to duck slightly to enter the room - Vulptereen architecture at its finest.

"The Imperium would graciously accept your people," Cedric agreed as he turned toward Cataline. "Cataline, I've felt something from you. A shift in the empyrean." His brow furrowed as he seemed to double back.. “Just...something to note.”

Cataline Holt

 

[Cataline Holt]

Cataline carefully and cautiously followed behind P Placeholder 0128 and President Grumb. Her own blue-green eyes meticulously watched the area around them for any sudden intruders and/or attackers. It seemed quiet, though, which in some ways was a relief for Cat - a moment for some piece.

Talent of birth. She smirked a little as Grumb took the lead, hitting the hidden mechanism to open the door to the bunker.

She frowned a little at the idea, especially as the Imperator had to duck to enter the room. She took a breath and followed behind, also ducking some to get into the small den. Cataline gave a quick smile to President Grumb at his words, "I'm glad. Neither of us will be disappointed with such an arrangement." Except maybe us... One place she wasn't coming back to and it was here.

Cataline perked a brow at Cedric's comments. Something from her? Ethereal? Maybe it was just the nasty and rather polluted air was finally getting to him. "I am sorry, Lord-Imperator, I'm not quite sure I understand."

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Grumb busied himself with turning on the wall-mounted holovision. It immediately turned in to the race, and the president contented himself with sinking into the lavish little couch to enjoy. “Glad ya dealt with those troublemakers. They isn’t gonna get in here.” The Vulptereen leaned forward to press a small red button on the side of his couch. Vulptereens loved red buttons.

“Just called the boys. Those troublemakers won’t be able to get out before they arrive. Just uh, hang out with me before they get here.”

Cedric gave the president a slight shrug in response. Not like they had a choice. He did his best to ignore the discomfort of craning his neck so far, and turned back to Cataline.

“The Force.” He answered simply. “It’s drawn to you more than most. Perhaps you should pay a visit to Tython, when all our work is done.”

Cedric was uncertain if it was a portent of great destiny, or a raw connection to the living Force. Either way it was worth noting.

Cataline Holt

 

[Cataline Holt]

Cataline watched President Grumb cautiously still. Red buttons were something she would always be fairly nervous about. She was the one that ultimately pressed that button before. She didn't know, of course, but the reality was that by pressing that button a lot of bad things ended up happening.

'The boys' wasn't very reassuring, either, but Cataline had resigned herself to whatever fate this world would bring to her. It could be worse, after all. Another, relatively fake, smile towards the President. She put her hands behind her back as she sighed at the cramped conditions - poor Cedric, he was even in a worse situation being a bit taller than her.

The Force was drawn more to her? She wasn't quite sure what that meant, either. "I'll make it a priority," she said quietly as her mind toiled with what he meant. Force, Ashla, stuff always seemed so mysterious to her despite her relatively recent conversion. "I wonder why," she commented after a second- more to herself than anyone else.

Her eyes moved to watch the holovision as the so called 'boys' show up. "I hope our racers are okay," she said as fiddled with her hands behind her.

P Placeholder 0128

 

[Jegy Sesara]

When given the thumbs up, it made the Sullustan smile as he enjoyed that very much. He rarely got praise so for once having it, made him a bit better on the inside. Sliding down on the other side, he would stop at the bottom as he dusted off his robe and pulled up on his goggles to see a bit better as the debris was moved. Hearing the question if he was good cop or bad cop...he only turned to give a very somber nod. Turning towards the door, he would pull on the sides of his robe to where his shoulders looked a bit broader and walked towards the cabin door, opening it and with one thrust of his hand, shoved the entire crew onto the wall, their weapons now pinned also along the wall.

The Sullustans eyes, while a very dull green or brown, became a slightly yellow color as he thrust his hand down as they would slam onto the floor, then back onto the wall. To them, they were the Sullustans play things as their weapons would fly all over the cabin till they finally lost hold of them, slamming them forward very roughly with the Force towards the back as they groaned, some having fractured bones, dislocated hips or shoulders, perhaps even head trauma. Turning to look at them, he would stand very straight up, each step he took breathed of authority as he pulled his robes back to show his weaponry and then with a yank with his right hand, pulled a male towards him and gripped the collar of his uniform, lifting the Vulptereen up with his left hand.

"I will only ask once...who is the leader of this so called Rebellion."

When the Vulptereen refused to answer, from his right glove slid out rather quickly a stone knife as he brought it up towards the throat of the male, turning to the side to let the crew see them. Everyone was silent as he pressed the flat part of the stone knife towards his throat, watching for any form of movements. The Sullustan would speak again, his voice had changed from before from a gentle voice, a worried voice...to a venomous voice, an authoritarian voice, a voice of hatred. Each moment felt as if the old demon from his past came alive, present to bring nothing but the deepest ends of the hell to those who opposed him.

"Give me a reason to keep you alive...why did you choose this place to attack beyond all others?"

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Sergeant bad cop: Jegy Sesara
Vroom vroom: Leon Gallo
Patient diplomat: Dak
Bunker buddies: P Placeholder 0128 / Cataline Holt
Sniper, keep sniping: Alyson Halle
Someone stopped pouring the tea: Collector / Atlas Kane
Is this Jegy? Jegy gonna give it to you.
Look what you made him do.
​

Jegy's squaring of shoulders seemed to mean he was adopting the bad cop façade. This was an immeasurable relief because Loske couldn't figure out for the life of her, how she'd approach that role.

When she was finished clearing the way for the Sullustan to approach, she dropped her hands to her hips to also exude some air of intimidation. At the very least, an obvious partnership between Jegy and herself, so these vandals wouldn't think he was solo.

There was an angry swell in the metaphysical that even Loske could detect. Her unrefined grasp of The Force was just letting her know that something wasn't as right as it had been before - and Jegy's aggressive negotiations escalated that ethereal inkling. She couldn't see the amber in his eyes, but she could...feel it? Very quickly Loske made a mental note to not get on the good doctor's bad side. The aliens inside were rag dolls, and even after the traumatic afflictions, they refused to speak.

With the stone blade came the cue for the desperate intervention of the good cop. She'd been outside the door, and while Jegy had been making his final volatile throw, she clambered inside and had stayed by the archway of the hatch, her arms folded. Now, she walked in and placed a gentle hand on the taut grip of the Sullustan, the arm that directed the knife. As if a single indicative interaction would stave the slaughter.

There was unified panic in the room, terror that filled the gaze of the wounded. Most of them were in heaps, bruised and battered, and wouldn't have been able to rally to their compatriot.

"You killed a lot of people out there." Loske added. "We want to know why. Are you under a spell, or hypnosis or something? If this wasn't your choice, you could have a fair trial."

She didn't know if that was true or not, but worth trying in this benevolent policewoman role. The suggestion of their decisions not being their own was naive, but they seemed to react to it. Which meant she could get away with just talking, instead of having to take her helmet off and start breathing in this air with some doe-eyed expression or something.

They would have let their snouted friend die at the hands of the off worlder. That was part of their creed. But the suggestion that this was not a choice of their own? Their snouts recoiled.

We chose this. We do this for Vulpter.

"Do what, for Vulpter? Kill your own?"

Snort. Our own wouldn'a a race for a planet. For our freedom. `Treens that died are already dead to us.

"You're bringing a bad name to Vulpter. Is this how you want to be memorialized? Who's organizing this, did they promise you a legacy?"

 

[Dak]

Tags: P Placeholder 0128
Others: Cataline Holt Alyson Halle
Good Cop, Knife Cop: Loske Treicolt Jegy Sesara ​

Several small arms blaster bolts dig into Dak’s chassis as he steps confidently through the doorway and into the lounge for the crew of Workshop 4B. The light weapons do minimal damage, only serving to jerk his body lightly without impeding his movement at all. The droid pulls the trigger once, stunning one of the Vulptereen as he tries to take cover behind a flipped table. Dak begins to redirect to another target but is jabbed in the back of the knee with a metal bar. The joint buckles and forces him to a knee.

“Take ‘im out!” the diminutive rebel who had landed the hit calls out. Another one of them works up the courage to step forward, raising a chair to smash it over the droid’s head. A desperate move, but the DAC had assumed their lack of firepower correctly.

Dak raises his left hand from his rifle and grabs the chair before it connects, stopping it dead in its tracks. In the moment of shock, he swings his Jackal around with his right hand and fires another stun ring directly into the hopeless pig-man's chest.

A heavy metallic ting! echoes through the room as the metal bar smashes Dak’s head from behind. “’nuff wit’ ya!” the attacker shouts, rearing back for a second hit. Unfortunately for him, it would take a lot more than a pipe in the hands of an unskilled Vulptereen to take out a droid built for combat. Dak rams the barrel of the ACR into the nationalist's gut, forcing a wheezing squeal from him.

As he continues to cough and spit, Dak lets his rifle fall to it's sling and grabs a hold of the pipe, ripping it from the alien's oversized hands and tossing it to the ground. The droid's then reaches out and takes a hold of the Vulptereen by it's leathery neck, digging his hands in and forcing his back to the wall.

"Okay, okay!" the voice of the last rebel in the room pleads. He stands up from behind the cover of the table, nervously holding a blaster pistol up by it's barrel "ye got us, ye got us!" He tosses the blaster pistol to the floor and glances between the droid and the last of his conscious allies "let 'im go."

Accepting that the situation had de-escalated, Dak releases his grip and takes a step back while pulling his ACR up. The one he had been holding collapses to the floor holding his throat with heavy, wheezing breaths.

"You will be taken in for questioning," he advises them, gesturing with his rifle for the one who had surrendered to go to his ally's side "do not attempt further resistence."

"<Ma-t-r C--ric,>" Dak's voice over the personal comms barely breaks through the bunker "<I -av- -ecured som- -f th- ho-til-s>"

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"Only one way to find out," Cedric mused as he meandered his way over to Grumb. The Vulpter was seemingly more than happy to forget all that had gone on throughout the day, more than content to watch the end of the race. It would be coming shortly, the contestants rounding about toward the finish line.

The Jedi Master blinked as a voice cut through his comm. He recognized it as Dak , and managed to get some semblance of information from the spotty communique.

The Jedi stepped toward the entrance of the bunker, trying his best to respond. "Bring them to the authorities. Good work." His signal was a bit more boosted than Dak's, courtesy of the bunker's own emission system.

"President's safe. Pull back."

Elsewhere, the captured leader was fighting the urge to spit in the face of his captors. "Vulpter been held back by youse people. You and yours. They think us stupid, we's not," the leader shoot his snout, "Look down on us. Always have, fethin' pink skins."

Cedric's voice would cut through their comms too, shortly thereafter. "What's your status? Are the terrorists secured? President is safe. Race ending."

Loske Treicolt Jegy Sesara Cataline Holt

 

[Jegy Sesara]

The gentle touch by someone on his knife arm, made him very slowly gaze upon the woman that done it though in that moment, his eyes would go wide with his grip slightly loosened. He had seen a ghost almost, his mind not working right as he saw a woman with black hair, eyes that would pierce into his very soul. He did not say the name out loud, whom he thought he saw as he blinked and realized it was really Loske Treicolt . Giving a slow nod at her, a bit shaken up, he would slowly pull the stone knife back and listened to those up front.

Then he heard it after all the communication, the answers. Locke was very good at getting answers from the Vulptereens, they probably saw her less threatening than evil Sullustan supreme. They looked down upon all of them, those that died are dead regardless. The Sullustans eyes turned to the leader as he stared right at him, his gaze had softened slightly from the shock but was still serious. Very slowly, he would shake his head right at him, as if a knowing thought crossed into his mind.

"No...you never saw what it means to be looked down upon. You never had to feel the cold eyes of others as you pass by the halls, taking your time to get the respect of your rank...having to say yes to every officer, throwing your life into suicide missions till finally they realize you are tougher than what they see! Never once had the thought occurred to me to look down upon any of you, to think that any of you are less intelligent than the next person. You want to know what I think? I think of disgrace you put upon your own people, the very lives you threatened, the very families you have destroyed this day, never to be repaired!"

Looking towards the entire group, he would point towards the leader of the Vulptereens, speaking a bit louder as he felt that old symbolic pride return to him.

"THIS! This is not ORDER! This is RECKLESSNESS! This is what kills the very idea of UNITY! And for it, you permanently damaged any means of repairing what you have done this day. I hope you all are proud...because from this moment on, you stare at that man, for every damn thing that comes to you. For he, above all other men, has left a stain in the history of Vulpter...as a man with no honor."

Finally dropping the male, he would push him back onto the group as he merely stared at them as the communicator would start beeping. He would look down briefly and then back over towards Loske, handing her the communicator to let her speak her mind. He would hold the prisoners down at least for now, hoping perhaps he let them saw what they did wrong...or if they were to far gone.

 

[Dak]

Tags: P Placeholder 0128
Spooky Scary Sullustan: Jegy Sesara
Others: Loske Treicolt Cataline Holt Alyson Halle ​

"Collect the others," Dak orders, gesturing again with his weapon. The two look to their unconscious allies and reluctantly make their way to them, one still hacking and rubbing at his throat. The droid watches them struggle and fumble to pull the other two up. They pant and curse, but the droid offers them no help.

"<Frank,>" Dak's voice comes over the astromech's communicator "<Advice the local authorities that I have secured four members of the Vulptereen extremist group responsible for these attacks.>"

"Wut da," a new voice shrieks from the doorway, followed by several gasps of shock and concerned whispers. Dak turns to see multiple crewmen and staff of the facility crowded in the entrance, staring at the mess his altercation with the rebels had cause. "We... 'eard a boom," the sanitary worker manages to choke out, barely able to look the droid in his receptors.

Dak reaches down and picks the blaster pistol from the floor, then holds it out to the man "Help me escort these men to the authorities." The Vulptereen flinches at first, then cautiously takes the weapon from the DAC.

"T-thank ya, droi- er, sir." he says with a stiff nod. It was clear to Dak that he had never held a weapon before, but the rebels likely couldn't tell.

With this group secured and confirmation that the President was secured, it was simply a matter of extraction. Dak escorts the four captives alongside a few of the crew who were willing to help, bringing them up to the surface to be collected by the local authorities. It was likely that the Imperium's Ministry of Intelligence would want to speak with them as well.

"<I -m re--y -or extr--tion, Mas--r Ced--c>"